THAT WAS THEN
Me, Allyson Cole. Age sixteen. Living in the world of endless summers, of going wherever you wanted. And yes, my parents may have worried that I was riding into troublebut I was young and in love and growing up was something I had to do .
AND THIS IS NOW
Me, again. Allyson Cole. This time, age fifty-one. I have everything I always wantedalmost. I don't have him and I don't have me. Now's the time to find what I lost. To do that, I have to hit the road, and find the father of my child. And start a journey I never could have anticipated .
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|Title of eBook: The Me I Used to Be|
|Release Date: 12-17-2012|
|Publisher: Harlequin Next|
This eBook download is available in the following formats:
|Parent title||The Me I Used to Be|
|Devices||Samsung Tablet, Apple Ipad & Iphone, Barnes & Noble Nook, Kobo eReader, Aluratek Libre, Iliad, Nokia, Blackberry, Hanlin|
|Note||ePub, short for electronic publication is one of our favorites and should be yours for a couple of reasons. ePub offers reflowable text giving you flexibility to manipulate how the digital content is presented. Moreover, lots of cool features are now being developed for the reader like advanced video and audio. ePub is now an industry standard, so all of the device manufacturers are now supporting it?. except of course those two proprietary (ie: we don't want you to have a choice) online behemoths: Apple and Amazon - who seek to chain you like a trailer park dog forever to their devices. Three years from now, we predict ePub will rule the eBook landscape.|
The Me I Used to Be
I slide a bubbling vegetable pizza from the brick oven, scenting the kitchen's warm air with garlic.
"Allyson?" Joleen, my newest employee, though she's worked here four years, steps up beside me. "There's a lady at the register who wants to say hello."
As Joleen hurries back to work, I set the pizza on the work counter and turn. My heart slides to my toes at the sight of a young woman up front with long auburn hair. But then I realize it isn't this woman Joleen speaks of, but my neighbor Mary Keller, the blonde beside her.
Mary waves and calls, "Hi!"
I smile, wave back, then breathe again. I've been seeing them everywhere today. On my early morning run before breakfast. In the car next to mine at a light on the way into work. On the sidewalk outside the café when I opened up. Girls and young women with red hair, skin as pale as milk. They're all ages. Gurgling toddlers, gangly, gaptoothed preteens, laughing college students, stressed-out mothers approaching middle age.
Why am I startled each time I catch that flash of color so like autumn leaves? These girls, these women, have stalked me before. Many times. But always, always, each year on this very date. Today of all days, I should expect them.
I've learned only one thing helps drive their image from my mind. Work.
On the aromas of yeast, onion and sweet red pepper, the clatter of pots and pans, the rise and fall of voices and laughter in the adjoining dining room.
Empty your mind.
Get caught up in the rhythm of chopping and spreading, of pouring and slicing.
Behind me, the café hums and buzzes. Today, like all Fridays at th...
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